


Oh, Shut Up Already

by SociallyUnacceptableOrb



Category: Transformers Animated (2007)
Genre: Gen, Local Dictator Gets Bullied, Not MegOp, Post-Finale, Short & Sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-04
Updated: 2020-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:01:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23015944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SociallyUnacceptableOrb/pseuds/SociallyUnacceptableOrb
Summary: You wanna know what the definition of insanity is? Asking the same question over and over and expecting your debate partner not to dodge the question.Every.Single.Time.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 55





	Oh, Shut Up Already

**Author's Note:**

> I'm just gonna paint this target on my chest now and get it over with. Also, there's some wordplay in here with some of Meg's lines, see if you can catch 'em!

“Megatron.”

“Autobot.”

Optimus Prime sat in a folding chair in front of Megatron’s holding cell. He’d seen something like it in a few Earth TV programs, and even if he didn’t quite catch the context, it looked cool enough. Megatron couldn’t be bothered to look at him, instead staring at the far-right wall in his cell.

“You know my name.” Optimus deadpans.

“Beings like you don’t deserve to be named. You’re just like the rest of them.” Megatron said. “A sad little drone, regurgitating the same information day after day. Identical. Mindless. Not like _my_ kind.”

“Neither you or me have a _kind,_ Megatron. We’re all Cybertronian at the end of the day.” Optimus replies, rolling his optics. “Believing in something doesn’t make you any different than anyone else.”

“Does it, now?” Megatron’s voice briefly gained a high lilt to it as he finally turned to Optimus; he was clearly trying to get under the ‘Bot’s plating. “And what of your Magnus, believing in his own old-fashioned ways of ruling and running Decepticons into the gravel below his servos? Cunning as he is, he’s too bolted into his ways to allow himself to transform and see things a different way.”

“At least we never used chemical weapons on our own men just for kick and giggles.” Optimus counters. “Or did you forget about that? I mean, I get it, I’m sure that years of war probably chipped off a little of your datarax.”

“Not quite. But have you forgotten the Supremes, Autobot?” Megatron asked. “Or those pathetic little undead spark clones you consider flying Autobots patchworked together with superior Decepticon code?”

“Y’know, you get some real _interesting_ stuff from those codes. Not just memories from his flight patterns. Repressed memories.” Optimus said. He rested his chin on the palm of his servo. “I had no idea someone’s vocal register could go that high. Rest of the science committee says Perceptor was the only one who could stomach listening to all those repressed memories without breaking down, no emotions and all that. How’d you do it?”

A pregnant pause fills the room as Megatron shifts in his cell.

“Starscream is a traitor. Traitors should be punished.” Megatron bluntly replied.

“So Starscream was an Autobot double agent this whole time?” Optimus asked. He gave a sharp whistle in mock-surprise. “Wow, had me fooled.”

Megatron snorted. Was that an attempt at a laugh? “I’m afraid not. He’s just another fool that thinks himself superior.”

“Y’know, that’s a funny word, superior… what does that mean to you?” Optimus asks as tilts his head. “Heard Lugnut scream it about a thousand times, even Soundwave got in on it.”

“Would you really like to know?” Megatron’s optics lit up, as if he’d been waiting for Optimus to ask that. “Decepticons are mighty warriors, descended from the Destron who were weak enough to let themselves be corralled by your ancestors, the Protectobots. We learned very quickly that in order to vanquish our oppressors, that weakness is one of the greatest evils there is. Of course, Autobots take advantage of weakness of other kinds in their colonization and assume it to be a natural way of life. How wrong they truly are.”

“Oh, that’s great!” Optimus said. “Good to know that if I join you, I’ll have a free pass out of feeling guilt when you’re annihilating all organic life.”

Before Optimus could blink, Megatron suddenly shot up and slammed his fusion cannon against the glass. His tone is harsh as he hisses, “The only reason that we kill outsiders is so that we aren’t killed off ourselves. Even the most innocent of lifeforms can be a lethal attacker in disguise, primed to attack when one is least expecting it. Apparently, that’s something that you idiotic Autobots can’t grasp.”

“Oh, okay. So now I’m an idiot.” Optimus quipped as he stood his ground, though the spiderwebbing crack on the glass put him on edge. “Which of the two is it? Are Autobots all Machiavellian demons set out to make Decepticon lives nightmares for the sake of it, or are we all knuckle-dragging brutes that can’t rub two sparkplugs together and need your glorious supervision to bring us back to our rightful grandeur?”

“I-!” Megatron’s face shifted from rage to apprehension. He shrunk down – or at least attempted to – and curled into a defensive position. “I know this may come as a shock, but you are aware that both can co-exist, aren’t you? Keeping the masses dumb and complacent with propaganda while the abusive upper elites rule unhindered. You see it with your bolt-headed Elite Guardsmen and Ultra Magnus, don’t you?”

“And in your ranks, too.” Optimus replied.

Megatrons’ optics narrowed, his voice growing gravelly. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You don’t, huh? How about how you treat Lugnut? You could shoot him in the optic, and he’d thank you. All for the glory of Megatron, right?” Optimus began, rising from his chair. “Oh, oh! And how about when you offlined Starscream to scare two already willing soldiers into not stepping out of line? I really liked that. Or when you told Shockwave that he could rip me apart and put me back together? Hell, why not just address that cyber-elephant in the room? He had someone sent to the stockades to be abused and didn’t even flinch!”

“That is enough.” Megatron commanded. He smashes the glass again, this time, right in front of Optimus’ face. The smaller Autobot flinched for a second but didn’t stop.

“I’m not done. How about when you used an Omega Supreme, a killing machine that you yourself called a crime against free will? Tens of ‘Bots that you were fully aware had no idea what they were doing that you offlined without a second thought? And you used a fully functioning, sapient bot as the avatar!”

“Silence! You’re just denying your own evil!” Megatron shouted. His fist pounded the glass, loud enough to alert the minicons guarding the cells.

“No!” Optimus shouted back in turn. “And what were you even going to do after you offlined all of us? Once every single Autobot is dead or they’ve conformed to your way of life, what’s your next move? “How do you intend on fixing inequality within Cybertronian society? How are you going to make up for all the innocent sparks forged into cannon fodder? What’s your plan, Megatron? What. Is. The. Plan?!”

Megatron had drawn his fist back to punch again but froze. It was as if he had never been asked that question before (and Optimus had a sneaking suspicion that he hadn’t) or even had a clue himself. All the emotion drained from his face as he lowered his arms and blankly stared back. His optics darted around, desperately trying to come up with a snappy response, but… nothing.

Optimus ex-vented dully, picked up his chair, and walked off. The minicons began to work furiously on the cracks, sealing them up before any more damage could be done. The Autobot was only a few steps away from the doorframe when he heard that same raspy tone behind him.

“Have you run out of accusations?” Megatron asked, the fervor in his voice slowly returning. “You concede, then.”

Optimus stopped in his tracks.

“I know that Autobots aren’t perfect. I’ve _lived_ through it. I don’t need your condescending little sermon treating me like a protoform.” He turns his head slightly. “With all due respect, Megatron, I haven’t conceded _shit_.”


End file.
